As originally planned, Hunter Dozier of the Royals earlier this month would have been at Kauffman Stadium enjoying a meet-and-greet with a delegation from Big Brothers Big Sisters Kansas City.
Normally, it would have been one of five such nights with BBBSKC, which typically brings matches of 15 “Bigs” and 15 “Littles” … many of whom likely would’ve been attending their first game at Kauffman.
No such luck, alas, during a pandemic.
But unsteady as it might be, life goes on during The Big Pause. And so does the momentous work of many important charities —including in this case one of the most meaningful and fulfilling causes around that as of Friday had 1,183 active matches but 338 children waiting for a Big of their own.
So in the spirit of seeking to make the most of this fundamental everyday dilemma, or at least just to keep on keepin’ on, BBBSKC and Dozier adapted via the mechanism that’s become somewhere between a solution and a salvation for many …
Even if it comes with potential pitfalls of its own.
As Royals broadcaster Joel Goldberg prepared to moderate questions for Dozier from sponsors, donors, volunteers and supporters of BBBSKC Thursday, he wondered whether Dozier’s 2-year-old son, Bodhi, might make a cameo appearance on the video teleconference.
“You never know; he’s done that on plenty of Zoom calls,” said Dozier, speaking from his home in Texas and noting that Bodhi had “barged through” during an earlier call with teammates. “It’s all part of it. That’s the Zoom world we live in now.”
But at least the Zoom world, and plenty of compelling questions, provided a fresh sort of glimpse at Dozier, who after years of fits and starts and doubts and injuries last year emphatically broke through with 26 home runs, 84 RBIs, 29 doubles and 10 triples.
Primed by the batting cage his father built for him in their yard in Denton, Texas, Dozier always had a love for the game and a devout work ethic. But the mental part of marathon seasons fraught with failures was something every player has to reconcile, and something that he spoke to one way or another through various questions.
In Dozier’s case, paradoxically enough, letting go some was a key part of hoisting himself up. Remembering what it’s like to fail, he said, has helped him have perspective on success, too.
And remember what the differences might be.
He has learned to ease up on in-season workouts that tended to deplete him in games, allowing him to be both more limber and energetic with more sustained strength for the long haul. And he learned to make butterflies his friends, realizing that the fluttering feeling can be harnessed as fuel instead of anxiety in the making. Deep breaths and focusing on positive thoughts can offset triggers, he’s found, and calm his heart rate down.
Moreover, he’s benefited from becoming less results-oriented than process-focused after determining something easy to say but harder to embrace: He can only control what he can control.
Toward that end, he essentially has created his own statistical system about his plate appearances. After every game, he opens up an Excel spreadsheet on his phone and types in not his hits in times at the plate but his quality at-bats.
